


Shattered

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life, Part 3 [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: post-orison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 19:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13278768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: post-Orison nightmare ...





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all … MulderNScully are back … hope you enjoy the third series in this thing called “Life”

She felt his hand on her arm, knew it was Mulder, prayed it was Mulder, swung her head around to see if it was him, met his face concerned, anger hidden plainly in trembling green eyes, hate for the dead man in her living room crystal clear and terrifying.

“Do you need anything to take back to my place? Do you need help changing?”

Clenched teeth delivered his inquiries, jaw jumping, muscles bunching in a swimming nightmare of white light, dark night, detective questions, deadly shots, guilty angel with her tarnished knight, nodding head, silent fright.

He made sure the door was as closed as it could be, calling to the officer outside in the hall that they’d be done in a few minutes. Retrieving a pair of jeans, he crouched in front of her, her hand automatically on his shoulder, helping her pull tattered pajama pants down her still shaking legs.

He noticed the blood.

Underwear wet, seeping, cotton stained the color of fear, of death, of loss, of pain, “Scully?”

First meeting his gaze, then following it to the equal horror between her thighs, her skin paled to snow, her lungs forgot function, “no.”

Mulder moved quickly then, stomach twisting a tangle that made him nauseous, stepping her out of the ruined clothing, rummaging in the closet for a pad and his sanity. Returning, he handed them both to her, heart shattered, unrepairable, “hurry up. We have to get you to the hospital. There’s an ambulance out front. We can be there in ten minutes.”

“There’s too much. It’s too much.”

“Scully?!? Come on!”

His raised voice, cracking pain, got her moving, her medical mind already signed, sealed, delivered in its diagnosis but going through the motions for his sake. Two minutes later, ready to go and floating in a disbelieving daze, she let him lead her through the crowd, destruction viewed with every glance, Pfaster registering as a heap of nothing on stained carpet that could never be clean.

Forgoing ambulance, Scully climbed carefully into the Jeep, parked on the lawn, tires over curb and door hanging open. Deathly quiet speeding along deserted roads, the late hour keeping him from hitting others in his desperate delivery of mother and child.

&&&&&&&&&&

Scully knew what was coming, slight cramping in her back telling her the agony to come was real, tangible and devastating but Mulder held out hope, even as the doctor informed them both that there was no heartbeat detected and the amount of blood and tissue was a confirmed diagnosis of miscarriage.

The surprise and further nail in the coffin of their dual dream was the information that she had been pregnant with twins, discovering this only after Scully had been subject to dilation and curettage, clearing out her uterus to stop the bleeding. Apologizes given and ignored, the gynecologist left them alone, hating her job as she pulled the door shut behind.

It was only once Scully heard the door click shut, privacy theirs for the moment, that she gave in, grief, pain, anger, regret spilling out in agonizing, universe-quaking, deathly soundless sobs. Forehead to hers, he cried in tandem as she scrambled for his hands, his neck, any means to hold on, until he stopped her palms against his cheeks, “I love you.”

Her tears ran faster, shoulders shaking, barren world alive two hours earlier.

There was no comfort and he didn’t offer any, words gone, mind numb, ache eternal.

&&&&&&&&&&

Finally falling asleep a few hours later, she woke only when Mulder pressed his lips to her temple, whispering gently, “the doctor says I can take you home whenever you’re ready.”

Eyes so puffy and swollen she could barely see, she didn’t respond, simply standing with a wince and a deep breathe, then holding out a hand to him, “clothes, please.”

She kept her eyes to the floor during discharge, the doctor not pushing, telling Mulder what to watch out for and what to do. Silence pressed heavily on the ride home and Mulder put her to bed, wanting to crawl in beside her but needing to make a call to Maggie first, one he never imagined he’d have to do.

Once done, tear tracks fresh on his cheeks, he closed the blinds, stripped to boxers and t-shirt and crawled in beside her, careful not to jostle but gathering her up just the same, breathing deep her iron-tinged hair, antiseptic skin, sweat-salt smell of terror and rage, pain and panic. Carefully nudging his knee between hers, he stroked his toes over ankle bone and heel, “can I do anything to make this better?”

She answered by simply burrowing deeper in the sheets and in him, arms snaking around, flush, melded into one, “this will never be better.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He’d never seen her eyes so dull, the colors muted to dusted slate, “our children, Mulder.” Wrenching sob escaped, wet, lacquered, never to be forgotten, “I lost our children.”

Pulling back, pushing hair from her face, praying his words would get through, if not now, then soon, “you did nothing, do you understand? This is not your fault. Pfaster would have killed you if you hadn’t fought back and I would have lost all three of you. Pfaster did this. Pfaster is the one to blame. You did nothing but everything you had to.”

Cheeks pulled back, moaning wail deep in her throat, lines of spit stretching from taut lips, eyes barely focused on the present, “but I still lost them!”

He held her forever, awake while she slept, awake while she cried, awake while she pleaded and cursed, in the same breath, her God.

The day and night passed by in a blur and with the next dawn came no comfort, only paled sunrise and the realization that she wasn’t pregnant anymore; today, her and Mulder were alone once again.


End file.
